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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29547516">Mischief, Magic, Midnight</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/clockworkballerina/pseuds/clockworkballerina'>clockworkballerina</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Journey into Mystery, Loki: Agent of Asgard, Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Cinderella Fusion, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Asexual Loki (Marvel), Cinderella Elements, Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Retellings, Fairy Tale Style, Historical, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Male Cinderella, Odin's A+ Parenting (Marvel), Odin's Bad Parenting (Marvel), Other Additional Tags to Be Added</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:02:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,689</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29547516</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/clockworkballerina/pseuds/clockworkballerina</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s an old story, with the same pieces to it every time it’s told- pumpkins and fairy godmothers, glass slippers and a royal ball, a poor, ragged girl with a wicked stepfamily, abandoned and unloved, yet still sweet and kind, dreaming of a blissful romance and a prince to sweep her off her feet-</p><p>Actually, wait. This story doesn’t center on a girl at all, for the time being, at least. It varies from moment to moment. Right now, anyway, it focuses on a boy. </p><p>Oh, and let’s skip the prince. The ball sounds nice. Not the romance. And while we’re at it, let’s change the “sweet and kind” to something a bit less dull. Clever, certainly, and more than a little headstrong. And witty, too, can’t forget that. </p><p>We can probably ditch the fairy godmother, as well.</p><p>This Cinderella makes his own magic.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>81</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my first fic, so if you have any constructive criticism for me, I’d love to hear it!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They all said no good would come of Lord Odin Borson’s marriage to Lady Frigga of Vanaheim. “They” being his father Bor and all the rest of the nobles they knew. But Odin was young and headstrong, and Frigga was young and pretty, and so Odin got his way as he usually did. </p><p>Right from the start, they were right. “They” being the rest of the local nobles except for Bor, who died very shortly after the wedding. Foul play would have been suspected had Bor not been almost impossibly old. Indeed, the only ones who questioned the old man’s death were the ones questioning why he had waited so long to die.</p><p>After their wedding and Bor’s funeral, Odin and Frigga settled in to live together in Asgard Manor, a stately old house with quite a lot of gold decor. Odin liked the place. Frigga didn’t. But as most wives do when their husbands like something they don’t, she managed. While there were plenty of servants in the manor, it was not until young Lady Frigga arrived that the place began to really be a home. And it was only a little over a year before the couple became a family of three. Unfortunately for them, their daughter, Hela, turned out to be rather insane and had to be shut up in a distant asylum. So Odin and Frigga tried again, and this time it seemed as if the bad luck had finally moved on.</p><p>Thor Odinson was a bouncing, blonde, blue-eyed baby, a chubby, cheery cherub of a child, with strong lungs and strong legs and strong arms and strong fists that he used to merrily pummel his nurse and his mother and his bedroom wall and anything else in reach. Odin was delighted when Frigga first placed Thor in his arms, and even more delighted when the baby gave him a toothless grin and whacked him in the eye. (Odin had only one, due to a hunting accident in his teens.) “He’s quite a little warrior, isn’t he, Frigga?” Odin said. “He’ll grow up to be just like his papa.”</p><p>Frigga sighed and pasted on a smile, sensing that Thor would be spending most of his time with his father rather than his mother. “Yes, of course, husband.” </p><p>“Just you watch,” Odin exclaimed, giving Thor a toy hammer and laughing as the baby banged it against the wall. “I’ll raise him right, Frigga, don’t you worry. There won’t be a Jotun in a two-hundred mile radius when young Thor’s old enough to swing a real hammer.” </p><p>The Jotunn were the plague of the kingdom. Big, blue, ice-covered creatures they were, with sharp teeth and red eyes, and the villagers feared them more than anything. They lived high in the snowy mountains and were ruled by a chieftain, Laufey, who was well-known for being a vicious killer. All Jotunn were, of course. Big savage brutes, the people said of them, who would slay you as soon as look at you and who killed and maimed each other for their twisted entertainment. When they were too busy to say all of that, they usually shortened it to just “monsters”, which was an equally fitting description but took much less time to get out of their mouths. </p><p>Which was why one snowy day in winter brought a surprise to the Odinson family- a surprise that set the gossips and busybodies in town whispering once again about the bad luck Lady Frigga had brought to the family.</p><p>It started out as any other day. After a very large breakfast, Odin wandered down to Frigga’s favorite sitting room, where he knew she often slipped away when the bustle of the castle got to be too much for her. He needed to see if she was finished mending one of his shirts- it had gotten awfully bloody and filthy in a skirmish with a small band of Jotunn he and a few other lords had run into recently. When he opened the door, however, he noticed three surprising things.</p><p>The first surprising thing he noticed when he opened the door was that Frigga was not, as a good wife should have been, mending his shirt. </p><p>The second surprising thing he noticed, which caused his jaw to drop so far he had an ache in it for the next week, was that Frigga sat on the sofa, cradling a baby.</p><p>The third surprising thing he noticed, which caused his eye to bulge out of its socket so much that it looked like someone had replaced it with an egg, was that the baby was blue. </p><p>“Frigga?” he said, since that was the only word he could get out of his throat at that precise moment. </p><p>“Yes, husband?” Frigga replied distractedly.</p><p>Odin swallowed hard, which did nothing to help his jaw ache but did help his vocabulary. “What is that?” </p><p>“It’s a baby, of course,” Frigga answered, laughing a little. </p><p>“Why is it blue?” Odin asked. “It’s not Jotunn, is it?”</p><p>Frigga was blessed with a rare mix of natural charm and a sharp streak of sarcasm. “Why, no, of course not, Odin. His mother was a bluebird, see.”</p><p>Odin was blessed with the ability to take practically everything literally. “What?” he said helplessly. “Bluebird-“</p><p>“He’s Jotunn, Odin,” Frigga explained, seeing her husband fruitlessly fumbling over her words. “One of the groundskeepers found him in the woods and brought him here. What they intended to <em> do </em>with him, I’ve no idea.”</p><p>“Perhaps they intended to eat it,” Odin suggested. In truth, he had no idea either, and his mind was still too busy with <em> there is a baby Jotun in my wife’s arms </em>to pause and send a sensible sentence his mouth’s way.</p><p>“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Frigga answered, and although she had heard a lot of stupid things in her life, she was correct. “Well, it’s no matter now. He’s with me and he’s going to stay that way.” </p><p>“Frigga,” Odin began in his very best <em> now, dearest, listen to your husband </em>voice, “You know we can’t keep a baby Jotun. It’ll frighten the servants out of their wits. It’ll give everyone frostbite. It’s-“</p><p>“Such a clever baby!” Frigga cut in. She held up the blanket with the baby inside. “Look at what he can do, Odin!” </p><p>Odin peered at the blanket. “I don’t see anything. Good heavens, it’s an ugly little beast. Those eyes!”</p><p>“He’s got magic in him, Odin! I saw the glow!” Quite unexpectedly, Odin found himself holding an armful of Jotunn baby. His cry of horror quickly turned to a yelp of shock as the baby’s blue skin suddenly became pale, his red eyes changing to a bright green. </p><p>Frigga snatched the baby out of Odin’s arms and hugged him close. “Clever, cunning little shapeshifter, aren’t you, Loki?” </p><p>“Loki?”</p><p>“Oh, yes, that’s his name,” Frigga said over her shoulder. “Such a little thing, he’s practically newborn. I’ve no idea what his true name is, so I’ve called him Loki.”</p><p>“Rather an odd name, isn’t it?” Odin frowned. “Seems like bad luck.”</p><p>“Oh, you worry too much.” Frigga adjusted the dark green blanket over the baby’s chest, tapping his tiny nose with a finger. </p><p>“Really, Frigga, we can’t keep it,” Odin said in his best <em>I am your husband</em> <em>whom you swore to obey </em>voice. “I won’t ruin our family reputation by taking in a Jotun foundling.”</p><p>“Well, that’s all right, Odin, you’re not the one doing it.” Frigga gave him her <em> go with it unless you want me to spike your wine with a laxative </em> smile, the one Odin detested. Mostly because she once <em> had </em>spiked his wine with a laxative and he had been thoroughly embarrassed in front of several of the nobles.</p><p>He sighed, feeling an ache start up between his eyes to match the one in his jaw. He rubbed the spot, a little spring of anger starting to well up to replace his annoyance. “How would we explain it, Frigga? You decided on the spur of the moment that you wanted a pet Jotun? That’s not easily explained away.”</p><p>“Don’t be stupid, Odin,” Frigga chided him. “Loki’s part of the family, of course. I’m sure Thor will love having a baby brother.” </p><p>“Brother?” Odin sputtered. “Frigga, you’re out of your head!” </p><p>“Odin, there is simply no other option. Heaven knows we can’t simply put him back in the woods!”</p><p>“Why not? The Jotunn might find him.”</p><p>Frigga gave him a look that meant <em> you are as dim-witted as a sheep. </em>“You know they stay away from places where they’ve been in a battle recently. The blood on that shirt of yours was certainly not human. It’s in the bedroom, by the way. Do try not to tear it so much next time, hmm?” Without waiting for an answer, she went on. “And we can’t try to find someone else to take him in, so don’t even suggest it. The people despise the Jotunn- the poor little thing would be torn to pieces the second he showed a speck of blue.”</p><p>“We could find some tradesman looking for an apprentice?” Odin was sounding unhappier by the second. He knew that Frigga was right, and yet he could not bear to lose the argument. </p><p>“Oh, that’ll never do. For one, he’s only a babe. For two, I’m not sure how I feel about apprenticeship in general- there seem to be an awful lot of runaway apprentices, and I’m sure there’s a reason for that.” She sat down on the sofa, stroking Loki’s tufts of soft black hair. “No, Odin. Roar and rage all you like. But you’ve gained a new son today, and I won’t budge on that.” </p><p>“Frigga! This is-“ Odin broke off his tirade and exhaled slowly. “Fine. Fine, if you’re so dead-set on this. But I have conditions.” He started to pace, his hands laced together behind his back. “One, we find some way to hide his true form. I will <em> not </em>have a little blue brat running about and getting underfoot. Two, we keep him secret for a time, until people will reasonably believe that he is truly your son. I suppose some of the servants might have to be told, but so long as the peasants and especially the other nobles think he is human, I think our family name will not be tarnished. Three…” he took a deep breath, knowing Frigga was likely to object to his final condition. “...we don’t reveal his true nature to him.”</p><p>“Why not?” Frigga stood up to face him. Behind her, Loki sent up a thin wail. </p><p>“Because if this boy is going to be living with us, I don’t want him knowing he is from a race of monsters. Children are terrible with secrets. If he knows what he is and lets it slip, the family name will be destroyed.”</p><p>“Is all you care about the family name? Not the family itself?” Frigga scooped Loki up and shushed him, humming a few notes of a song.</p><p>Odin didn’t answer the question. Eventually, Frigga looked up from the baby in her arms to find him gone, as if he had never been there at all.</p><p>And that was how little Loki Odinson came to live in the manor. He set tongues loose the day his parents christened him. They still remembered the christening of Thor, a strong, healthy child, the perfect son for Odin and Frigga.</p><p>Loki was something less than perfect. Even the peasants whispered in surprise at how small and sickly the babe seemed, how quiet and still he lay in his mother’s arms, how his eyes darted curiously about him. The housewives shook their heads, murmuring to each other about the child. “Dark hair, and did you ever see such pale skin? He looks like a wee ghost babe!” “And those eyes- green as poison!” “Strange to think he is an Asgardian child. He looks nothing at all like his elder brother.” “Mark my words, the lord and lady will be back at the church for the lad’s funeral before winter’s out. The little thing will catch his death of cold at the slightest breeze.”</p><p>But whispering was all they did. Whispers were harmless, whether they were truth or lies. Odin gradually stopped worrying about the secret of Loki’s true heritage, and started training Thor in earnest. Loki, for his part, was never far from his mother’s side. Frigga taught her younger son everything she knew. And, in time, when Loki was older, she taught him what no one else, not even his father, could teach.</p><p>She taught him magic. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is a couple days late, but who’s counting?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Thor and Loki, as they grew a little older, proved to be, respectively, a normal child and a not at all normal one. Which, due to the nature of their births, was to be expected. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thor had been born loud and strong, and he stayed that way. He liked to break things. No toy ever gave him enough satisfaction that he did not eventually break it, save for the ones that were too stubborn to break. Those were usually hurled against the wall or at people when Thor was in a bad mood. He loved rather violent things- toy hammers and swords and clubs and little tin soldiers. Whenever some noise of banging and clattering and shouting echoed through the manor, anyone in earshot was sure to know it was young Thor Odinson. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki, by contrast, was quiet and small. He learned to walk months after he should have, and he was ill more often than he should have been. He did not speak for a long time, which so worried his mother that she sent for a doctor to find out if he ever would. It was when she started to teach him magic at three years old that he began to talk. Loki’s room, in comparison to Thor’s, had few toys and playthings. He played with his magic, conjuring illusion animals and watching them skip about his room before shimmering into a shower of green. He read too, any books he could find. He learned to read at only four years old, shocking Odin and delighting Frigga by bringing a book along on an outing and, when Odin told him to put it down, protesting that he was at a good part and then proceeding to read the good part aloud happily, his little clear voice only stumbling over the hardest words. From then on, Frigga had made sure to regularly find new things for Loki to read- he reread his favorites until they were worn, but he would always snap up something new. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two parents of the family seemed to each gravitate towards one of their children. Frigga had guessed correctly when she suspected that Thor would be spending more time with his father than with her. Odin treated him as if he were a little prince, playing his war games with him and telling him increasingly violent war stories that, to Frigga’s dismay, often included gruesome deaths of Jotunn. She had tried to confront him about it, but he had shrugged her off. “It’s not as if anyone knows Loki’s Jotun, including Loki himself,” he said carelessly. “There’s no harm in it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frigga had found herself nearly Loki’s sole caretaker. Odin barely noticed his younger son, when he did, it was usually to scold him for some imagined slight. Odin was harsher with Loki than he was with Thor, and there were many times where Loki was punished for some offense, while Thor was not, though they had both done the same thing. There had even been a few times where Loki had taken the blame for some of Thor’s mistakes, though Frigga was quick to notice and put a stop to that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were both rather lonely, and so of course they sought out each other’s company. Frigga had been adventurous when she was a girl, and staying in the manor, a proper lady, wore at her. Loki did not mind being by himself, but Frigga believed he was growing up too serious, and took it upon herself to fix that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two spent hours together. Frigga read books to him and Loki read books to her. They acted out the stories in the books, and later, made up their own tales and acted those out, too. Frigga’s sitting room began to look more like a child’s nursery as time went on. Truth be told, this was not only for Loki’s benefit. When she was in that sitting room, playing with her clever little son, Frigga became a child again, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course Odin had something to say about it. “You spoil him, Frigga,” he chided her one day at supper. “If he were a girl, it would be proper. But Loki is a son, not a daughter. He should not still be spending time with his mother.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frigga decided right then that it was best Odin not learn of Loki’s newest skill with magic. “I don’t see what’s so wrong about it,” she said. “He’s only six, Odin. Why should it matter if he plays with me? And besides, you do the same with Thor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Odin took a rather agressive bite of fish. “Yes, but that’s different. The games I play with Thor teach him what he will need as he grows into a man. You, you and Loki, all you do is act out fairy stories and ridiculous fantasies. You’re filling his head with stuff and nonsense.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nonsense,” Frigga answered promptly. “I’m only letting him be a child. He needs more of that, Odin. You know he has no friends, no little playmates like Thor does.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If he made an effort to make friends, he would have more of them.” Odin scowled. “Thor decided he wanted friends, and he went out and found some. I don’t see why Loki can’t do the same.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Loki is not Thor, Odin,” Frigga said gently. “He’s smaller, smaller even than most little folks his age. It frightens him to speak to them. And you know he’s a unique child.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Odd,” Odin broke in. “He’s an odd little thing. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was going to grow up with the same affliction that-“ he cut himself off, very suddenly, and began eating with great gusto as if trying to forget what he had nearly said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>was part of the problem, Frigga thought. Odin and Hela- before she had gone mad- had clashed often, and violently. Screaming matches had abounded. They had not had the best relationship, but Odin had still loved Hela.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He saw a second Hela in Loki. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was not hard to see why. Besides the obvious black hair and green eyes that the two shared, Hela had always been very different, just like Loki was. She had scorned what she did not like and embraced what she did, and she had not given a fig for any rules she broke or any disgrace she brought on herself. Hela had been herself, shamelessly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps Odin was worried that Loki would turn out the same way. It was perhaps part of the reason- though certainly not all of it- that Odin kept his unusual, curious younger son at a distance, while embracing good, golden Thor. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Never mind that, then, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Frigga thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>If his father will not love him, Loki will at the very least be assured that his mother does. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>However, Frigga was not Loki’s only playmate. The lives of a lord and lady were busy ones, and Odin and Frigga could not always be with their sons. It was only natural that a good portion of the day saw the brothers playing together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Loki!” Thor tore into his brother’s room one afternoon, wooden sword in hand. “Father just told me a wonderful battle story! Come act it out with me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki flipped the page of his book. “I’m so sorry, Thor,” he said, not turning his eyes from the words. “I wish I could. But I don’t want to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Loki…” Thor huffed and thumped down on the bed. “You’re always reading.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like reading,” Loki answered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you play with me, then the next time my friends visit, we’ll let you play with us,” Thor bargained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki sighed. “Thor, I don’t know how you’ve missed this, but I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>like </span>
  </em>
  <span>your friends. They tease me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hogun doesn’t.”</span>
</p><p>“That’s because Hogun doesn’t say much of anything.” Loki turned the page. “Now, please, go away and leave me alone.”</p><p>
  <span>Thor, like his father, was utterly incapable of taking no for an answer. Loki yelped as his book was pulled out from underneath his hands. “Give that back!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come get it, then!” Thor waved the book tauntingly above his head before taking off down the hall like lightning. Loki tore after him, upsetting his chair along the way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The brothers raced down the corridor, Thor knocking over things, Loki neatly dodging them, shouting and hollering and generally acting as most children did some time in their lives.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Give it back, Thor!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come and fetch it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to lose my place!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t this more fun than reading, anyway?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki made an almighty effort, leapt forward, and landed neatly on Thor’s back. Thor grunted in surprise, somehow managing to keep his footing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Loki! Get </span>
  <em>
    <span>off</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll get off when you give me my book!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, really?” Thor stopped short and promptly let himself fall over backwards. Loki swung his small self around to cling to Thor’s front, managing it just before Thor crashed to the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ow!” Thor bellowed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki triumphantly climbed off his downed brother and plucked his book from Thor’s hand. “And now you have no playmate and nothing to hold over my head,” he said. “I’m going back to my room to finish my book.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no, you’re not,” Thor said, scrambling up. “I’m kidnapping you.” He lunged forward, seizing Loki around the waist and lifting him high over his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki shrieked. “Thor! Put me down, you oaf!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think so!” Thor triumphantly banged open the door to his own room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s because for </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>to think about something, every star in the sky would have to align perfectly,” Loki said, squirming helplessly. “I mean it, Thor! Let me- hey!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thor dumped his brother unceremoniously on his bed. “And now, you have to play with me,” he announced. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thor, what makes you think that just because you dragged me in here, I can’t simply walk back out again?” Loki asked. Nevertheless, he slumped back on Thor’s bed, opening his book and trying to find where he had got to when he had been interrupted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Loki, no more reading!” Thor plopped down on the floor. “Come play with me! Please? Just for a little while?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The last time you said that, I ended up stuck in here until supper,” Loki snorted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean it this time! Just twenty minutes or so, and then you can get back to your book. I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you say </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>lie too much.” Loki reluctantly slid off the bed, crossing his legs underneath him. “All right, then. What’s this story you simply cannot act out on your own?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite their differences, they were brothers. And despite how their parents each favored one child over the other, they were happy. Thor did not mind how their mother was always playing with Loki, and Loki was more than happy to let Thor spend the most time with their father. Each gravitated to one parent, and that parent was the primary guiding force in their small lives. And of course there were plenty of times when the four of them were together- they were a family, after all. Life seemed perfect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But perfect things always change and become something less than perfect. Often, we expect a very great, monumental change, but it is the small things that come when unexpected and turn things from perfect to anything but.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it was a very, very small thing indeed that set off the change in this family’s lives. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boys!” Frigga appeared in the doorway of Thor’s room, smiling. “I’m sorry to interrupt you, but it’s time for supper.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki groaned. “See, Thor? I always end up spending too much time playing! Now I have to wait to finish my book.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frigga chuckled at the indignation on Loki’s small, pale face, such an odd look for a child.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then, quite suddenly, she coughed.</span>
</p><p>It was a very little cough, hardly worth worrying over. </p><p>
  <span>And yet, that one very little cough was the very, very small thing that would end up changing the family’s lives forever. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning you now- this is a very sad chapter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When things began to change, they started out small, with just a little difference, and then, all of a sudden and very fast, everything began to change all at once. It was like a landslide being begun by a single pebble losing its grip on the mountainside, or a stone reaching the tipping point at which it tumbled down a hill, or one cruel word destroying a life forever. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So it was with Odin and Frigga’s family. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took months, nearly a year, for anyone to notice that something really was wrong. Frigga coughed a little more each day, but waved off any concern. “I’m all right, love,” she said when Loki asked her if she wanted a glass of water. “Just a little dryness in the lungs, is all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even Thor noticed it eventually, although it took him much longer than Loki. “Mama, did you get sick?” he asked a few weeks after. “I got sick, remember? When I went out in the rain? Maybe I gave my sick to you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frigga laughed and tousled her older son’s hair. “I’m quite sure you didn’t.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Odin was the last to notice the coughing, but he was the most concerned. “That cough of yours has been going on far too long,” he announced at breakfast one morning. “Shall I fetch the doctor?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, no, Odin, I’ll be right as rain with a little rest,” Frigga assured him. “Perhaps I’ve taken a bit of a cold, but of course it’s nothing serious.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frigga was right about most things. She had been right to think that Thor would be more of Odin’s son than her own. She had been right to begin Loki’s teaching in magic as soon as she could. She had been right in suspecting that Odin would never quite accept his second son.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the matter of her cough, however, and its being nothing serious, Frigga was something she usually was not, which is to say, she was dead wrong. Typically, being wrong was her husband’s area of expertise. Had she been still an unmarried girl, Frigga would have realized that she was wrong much sooner. But she was a wife and a mother now, and so she put her own needs and thoughts aside, to care for those of her husband and sons. And, in the same fashion, she brushed aside the cobwebs of worry that lingered, like the cough, in her chest, assuring herself that she would be over it soon, it was only a little thing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was to prove a terrible mistake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Things kept changing as time ticked on. The little family had always made it a point to go out together at least once a month- to the seaside, or to a nearby park for a picnic, or to a small place they kept in the woods for when they wanted to escape the busyness of the manor. It was Frigga’s idea, of course- she may have spent much of her time with Loki, but she loved Thor just the same, and this was the way she had contrived to be able to pay attention to both of her sons. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a bit, though, Frigga began to stay behind from these outings, attributing it to a headache or a pain in her stomach or some such thing. Odi, since his wife was not there to do it, began to worry. The boys, even ten-year-old Thor, were still too young to worry just yet. They had no reason to think that perhaps something else was wrong with their mother than a simple ache in the head or stomach. Odin, however, knew better. He was very good at claiming that he knew best, but this time it was true. He determined to confront Frigga about it the next time she sent him and his sons out and remained behind in the manor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He never got the opportunity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the day that Loki turned the wine in a servant’s hand to snakes that the changes finally reached the tipping point. The landslide rushed down the mountain, the stone rolled down the hill, the cruel word dangled from spider threads in the air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And everything changed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t hear him, Mama.” Loki’s little tricks and pranks never fully satisfied his anger or embarrassment. He used them for fun, sometimes, but lately they had been used more and more to retaliate against the slights that had either become more common or more noticeable to him as he grew a little older. “He laughed at me. While I was right there. They </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>laugh at Thor.” He sighed, sounding much older than an eight-year-old boy. “Of course they don’t laugh at Thor. Thor’s perfect.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Loki, sweet.” Frigga caught him up and presses a kiss to his dark, tousled hair. “First of all, no one is perfect. Now, I know your mother comes close-“ a tiny smile bloomed on Loki’s lips at the gentle teasing- “but not even I am perfect. Thor is not perfect. Your father is not perfect. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You</span>
  </em>
  <span> are not perfect, Loki. And that is perfect in and of itself.” She embraced him again. “Why should someone else decide what perfect is, anyway?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told Father I was sorry,” Loki whispered into her ear. “For the wine. And the snakes. But I lied. I’m not sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If anything, that servant ought to be,” Frigga replied. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you upset with me?” Loki’s voice was quiet now, small and sad and more like a child, although the sadness in it should not have been there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Loki.” Frigga set him down, placing a hand on his bony shoulder. “Of course not. You did no harm to the servant, or anything else, for that matter. In fact, I am rather proud. Any little bit of magic can keep something as it is. It takes true ability to make something what it is not. Changing wine into snakes, for example.” She ran her fingers over his hair. “Or your shape-shifting.” She deliberately refused to think about the little blue baby she had seen at first, and focused her thoughts only on the new forms Loki had learned to take, still a secret, for now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki pulled his legs underneath him like a cat, gazing at her. “You aren’t just saying that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course not, my son,” Frigga assured him, ruffling his hair. “I would never lie to you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki was quiet for a moment, and then flung himself into her arms. “I love you, Mama.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too, Loki.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frigga gave him one last embrace before she got up and turned to leave the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then she gave an odd little sigh and crumpled to the floor, still as death.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki gasped in shock, staring at her for a long moment before his wits came back to him. “Father!” he screamed. “Father, Thor, someone, help!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was the moment that the changes- and there were still many more to come- stopped being so little and innocent and hardly noticeable at all, and started being tremendous, rude, impossible to ignore changes that invaded the family’s lives without so much as a by-your-leave and left everything a mess when they decided they were finished. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Odin sent a servant for the doctor and enlisted several more to get Frigga to her room. Thor, who had come barreling down the hall at Loki’s scream, curled up on his brother’s bed and held Loki in his arms. Loki trembled with shock and fear, too frightened for his mother to even cry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>More things began to change, after that. Frigga could no longer make it down the long staircase. Then she was too weak to leave her room, and shortly after, she stopped being able to get out of bed at all. Consumption, the doctor said it was, and although the boys were too small still to understand what it meant, they knew that it meant a good deal of worry for Odin. New habits began to find their way into the house- Loki, especially, but Thor too, began to take their toys and playthings into Frigga’s room, spending hours playing happily about her bed. Frigga refused to be the regular picture of an invalid- she kept her curtains, and sometimes even her window, open to let the sun in, and only kept nearby the medicines she needed to take. She still took pains to make herself look decent- her maid helped her with her hair and her clothes. Before long, it was as if nothing had changed at all- Frigga stayed in her bed, yes, but she still laughed and sang and played with her sons and had romantic suppers with her husband. The house became centered around Frigga’s pretty, sunlit room, and it was not uncommon for the dining room to be abandoned in favor of eating by her bedside. The changes, for awhile, slowed down a bit, dozing off and letting everything remain as it was for a little longer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was in summer, nearly two years after Frigga had first begun to cough, that the changes suddenly stirred and began again. And this time, they decided as a whole to make up for their slacking off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki slipped into Frigga’s room one day in June. Frigga was supposed to be napping, but she lay looking out of the window instead. At Loki’s quiet little cough, she glanced over, smiling and patting her bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki looked different than usual. The hair that had fallen to the nape of the neck only the day before now hung to the middle of the child’s back. Loki’s clothes had not changed, but it was rather obvious that the body that filled them had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Loki, sweetheart,” Frigga said gently. “Practicing again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki nodded her little black head. “Sort of. I just thought I should change into this today. I’ll change back before Father sees.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When you’re older,” Frigga promised, “you may show him any form you like.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki smiled and burrowed under Frigga’s arm. “What are you looking at?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frigga opened her mouth to respond, but coughed instead, holding a handkerchief to her mouth. There was blood on the linen when she pulled it away. “There’s a nest in that big tree, see?” she said. “I’ve been watching the mama and papa birds build the nest, and I think very soon there will be little baby birds.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to come to your room every day until the chicks fly away,” Loki declared. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frigga smiled, but it was sad. “Loki, little one...I believe you’ll see those baby birds leave their nest. But I think that soon, I may have to leave, and I need you to be very brave when that happens.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki stared into Frigga’s eyes, a frown on her small face. “What are you talking about, Mama?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sweetheart, I’m going to go away very soon,” Frigga said softly. “I’m not going to get better, like Thor got better when he was sick. I hate to leave you and your brother and your father all alone. How I wish I could stay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki’s eyes filled with tears. “Mama, don’t go,” she whispered. “I need you, Mama.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frigga stroked her daughter’s hair gently. “I know, Loki. I know. But we don’t decide these things. If we did, I would stay here with you always. But I have to go, dearest. I can’t stop it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I stop it? With my magic?” The first few tears were trickling down Loki’s face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, darling. Nothing can stop this. Not even magic. But I need you to promise something, Loki. Something that may be very hard. Can you do that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki sniffled. “What is it?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need you to promise that, when I’ve gone away, you will be happy again. Someday. I know that me leaving is going to be very hard for you, Loki- you and I share a special bond, and I wish I did not have to break it. But be happy. It may take a little while, and it may take a little bit longer. But don’t be sad forever. We’ll see each other again someday.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Soon?” Loki whispered, curling up at Frigga’s side. “Will it be soon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It will seem like soon,” Frigga replied. She looked out of the window. “Look. One of the birds is in the nest.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Indeed, a black crow had alighted on the tree and stepped daintily into the nest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know what they say about crows, don’t you, Loki?” Frigga asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki shook her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frigga softly recited, “One for sorrow, two for mirth, three for a death, four for a birth, five for silver, six for gold, seven for a secret never to be told, eight for a kiss, nine for a wish, and ten for a bird you must not miss.” She wrapped an arm around Loki, laying her head down on her pillow. “So you see? There may be one for sorrow, but eventually there is two for mirth. You know what mirth is?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki shook her head again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mirth is the sort of excitement you have when you are leaving for the seaside,” Frigga answered. “Mirth is happiness, the kind you feel on your birthday or on Christmas Day. Mirth is laughing, Loki- the laughing that comes when you’ve done your little mischievous things. Don’t stop laughing, Loki, never. I don’t care how long it takes- but someday, after I’ve gone away, laugh again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was only two weeks later that Loki stole up the stairs, silent as a cat, and opened the door to Frigga’s empty room. Curling up on the bed, he stared out of the window at the big tree with the crow’s nest in the branches. The parents had hatched their chick, and now hopped around the edges of the nest, busily attending to their baby. Three crows, altogether.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>One for sorrow, two for mirth...three for a death.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki bent his head and wept.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Less sad of a chapter this time, but it’s not particularly a happy one, either- also somehow I managed to get away with almost zip dialogue. I’ll get back to people actually talking next chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Frigga’s death sent another avalanche tumbling down on the remaining Odinsons. Odin mourned her as much as he had loved her. Thor, in her absence, grew even closer to his father- they both avoided the subject of Frigga almost entirely. It was too painful to remember, too painful to talk about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki, too, rarely spoke of Frigga. But he remembered. One day, without telling anyone, he simply slipped into her room and took it for himself. He moved his things in there, but he kept them tucked away. The room stayed, for the most part, looking as Frigga had left it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was subtle, and it was slow, but things began to change. Odin became a very stern man, with a reputation for coming across as cold and stony. Thor, too, changed- became a little less playful and a little more hardened. His choice of friends did not help with that at all- his closest companions were a group of children from various neighbors, three boys- one dashing, one grim, and one large- and one girl, all of whom were very like Thor himself, in that they liked to play rough and imagine themselves great warriors. Gradually, Thor’s time began to be primarily spent either with his father or with these playmates.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki changed, too, and his change was the biggest one of all. It was not entirely his fault- actually, the fault was primarily Odin’s, in the end. But there were parts of it that Loki alone was responsible for.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki had always been a rather quiet child, especially compared to his boisterous brother. But now, the difference was magnified tenfold. Loki barely spoke at all, and he rarely left the room that had been Frigga’s and was now his own, except to go to the large family library. He spent the vast majority of his time reading. The servants, most of whom had always had a bit of a soft spot for the younger of Odin’s sons, began to worry about him. Frigga was the one who had died, yet it seemed like Loki had become her ghost. Pale and drawn and silent, there were several instances in which Loki accidentally frightened a servant out of their wits as they came down a hallway, not expecting the slender, ashen little creature in the corridor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Speaking of the servants, after about a year, they began to notice changes, too. Small ones, at first- a maid dismissed with no warning or reason, a footman there one day and gone the next, the cook’s assistant leaving to attend a sick relative and never returning. Gradually rumors, as rumors will, filled every mouth among the servants. The manor was falling into disrepair. Odin had lost his money. The family was near penniless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were not entirely right. Odin, in the absence of Frigga, had allowed the manor to grow neglected and shabby. He had begun to spend money more lavishly than he used to- mainly on himself, as Frigga had only allowed a certain number of the gold decorations he favored, and on Thor, who had begun to require a great deal of expensive armour and weapons. As it happened, he had now decided, since it had been a year since Frigga’s death, to get the manor fixed up again, in case he met some other woman one day. And there was simply not enough money to do it. So Odin had begun to narrow the ranks of the servants- at first gradually, and then more quickly as he grew more impatient. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, there were only a few left- a cook, a maid, a butler, and a footman or two. And yet there was still not enough money. Odin began to be worried- how in the world could they get along without these last few? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The answer came to him rather suddenly one morning at breakfast, causing him to make an undignified splutter into his tea. For the next few days, the last remaining servants whispered that he must have gotten some news, what with the odd, calculating expression he wore on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were even a daring few who whispered that the old man had finally cracked. None of them had been around long enough to remember Hela, but they had heard the rumors. “He’s gone mad,” the maid whispered to one of the footmen. “Completely mad, mark my words.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her words seemed to be confirmed the next morning, when- quite suddenly- Odin called Loki into his study.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no secret- at least among the servants, who did not possess a great deal of tact and care between them- of the fact that Odin did not pay very much attention to his younger son. Indeed, he seemed almost as if he had forgotten he had a second son at all. To suddenly wish to talk in private with the boy- why, it was more a symptom of madness than any he had yet displayed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The servants were not privy to the conversation between Odin and Loki. But it went very much like this:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Er...son,” said Odin, feeling very awkward and also wondering when young Loki had gotten such a very old look in his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki did not respond, which was rather disrespectful of him, but lately he had become a creature of will- if he did not want to do something, he did not do it, and at that particular moment he did not want to speak. So he merely stood still and looked at his father.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ahem,” Odin said once he realized that Loki did not intend to say anything. “I wanted to discuss something with you, Loki.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki still did not say anything, but he was thinking, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Really? I assumed you called me in here to stand and stare at you for awhile. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Loki seemed to have inherited Frigga’s wonderfully sharp sense of sarcasm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After another uncomfortable pause, Odin decided he had better stop waiting for Loki to answer him and get to the point. Which, being Odin, he did in the most fantastically awkward way possible. “I- now that your mother is- I mean, not that she- the truth of the matter is- family secret- </span>
  <em>
    <span>ugh.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki still said nothing, merely thought </span>
  <em>
    <span>What in the world is he going on about?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He wished often later that he had not found out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Odin took a very deep breath, wishing very much that it was a long drink of wine, and said, “A</span>
  <em>
    <span>-hem. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Loki, you are adopted.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now that he had started going, Odin did not stop. He told Loki- carefully omitting certain details, such as Loki’s true race- how he had been found as an infant, how they had rescued him from certain death and raised him as their own. It must be confessed that he rather played himself to be the hero of the story- instead of Frigga finding the baby, he claimed it had been him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Odin then explained, all in a rush, how it would be best if there was a little distance put between Loki and himself, and naturally Thor. Odin was a wise old man, and he did not say exactly what he intended- he kept much of the details to himself. He simply suggested to Loki that perhaps it would be better if Loki were to consider Odin his step-father, and Thor his step-brother. It was true, in a sense, Odin said- they had no idea who Loki’s birth father had been. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Loki said. And that was all. Just that single word, and then he was gone like a shadow, without even waiting to be excused. Odin called for some wine to be brought to him, and sat back in his chair, feeling very satisfied and wondering how best to go about the next parts of his plan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It did not take long for news to spread. The very next week, the butler was dismissed, and he told the entire town about how Odin’s second son had begun to call him “Stepfather” instead of “Father”, and how it was clear that Odin himself had requested the change. Most of the townsfolk considered this another sign of Odin descending into madness. A few, mostly those who had met the younger of Odin’s sons and had a fondness for the child, worried about what this would mean for Loki. “It’ll come to no good, this stepfather business,” one old woman said sadly. “Poor boy- Frigga’s not there to soften the old man’s hard heart, and I worry his harshness will fall on little Loki’s innocent head.” She clicked her tongue in a knowing way. “Only nine years old, the poor little thing. You just wait- that old buzzard Odin will find some excuse for cruelty in that mad gray head of his.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Odin, however, proved to be a kinder man than many people thought possible. Right away, he set about making changes, most of which benefited his stepson in some way or another. Loki had always suffered from the heat in the summer, so Odin had the truly genius idea to move Loki’s bedroom to the attic, where it was much cooler, and airier, too, what with the patches of sky that showed through holes in the roof. And it would have been terribly difficult for Loki to drag all his belongings up the rickety attic staircase- he had never been as strong as Thor. Odin came to the rescue once again, brilliantly suggesting that Loki just use the furniture that was already in the attic, putting the creaky bed and battered stool and trunk with no lock and three-legged chair to good purpose again. When summer came around again and Loki still struggled with the heat, Odin was ready with a solution- why didn’t Loki trade his fine, heavy clothing for a simpler, lighter style, like what the servants wore? And in winter, when Loki took ill, Odin puzzled out the problem easily- Loki spent too much of his time reading books in his attic room. He needed exercise, something to do besides lose himself in the pages of a book. Once again, Odin had the answer. There was plenty of housework that needed to be done- he dismissed the rest of the servants- surely that would benefit Loki much more than sitting alone and reading all day. There was outdoor work, too- fresh air and sunshine were just the thing to bolster Loki’s frail constitution, Odin said knowledgeably.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time he was ten years old, Loki became rather useful. Anything Thor and Odin did not want went to him. He wore Thor’s old clothes, which he spent much of his spare time- and he had little enough of to begin with- altering, as Thor was a good deal broader and taller than he was. His little corner of the attic was furnished with old, broken furniture that had belonged to Thor and Odin. The blanket on his small, shabby bed had been Thor’s, and when it had become too threadbare and patched, it had been given to Loki. Eventually, everything Loki had was only passed on to him once his stepbrother and stepfather were finished with it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t merely extend to clothes and furniture, either. Odin quoted many renowned medical journals on how it was actually quite injurious for sickly children to stuff themselves at mealtimes. Out of care for his stepson, he made absolutely sure there was no danger of Loki falling ill from overeating. Loki waited in the kitchen while Odin and Thor ate their meals. When they were through, he was allowed to have the scraps. Odin and Thor had very large appetites, and so most of the time, Loki did not get much to eat. Sometimes, he did not get anything at all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As time went on, Loki began to look very little like a pale, thin nobleman’s child, and very much like a pale, thin waif of a servant, whose ribs stuck out a little further than they should and whose clothes were more rags than anything else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which, of course, had been Odin’s plan all along.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is a bit overdue, sorry!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Loki, since he could hardly do otherwise, accepted all these changes. He dutifully went along with each new change Odin found to make. But he quite easily saw through his stepfather’s ruse, playing the part of a worried man looking out for a younger child. Loki, in turn, began to play a part himself- that of the obedient boy respecting his stepfather’s wishes. In truth, however, he was anything but obedient. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Some of the changes were not so bad. He would have liked to stay in Frigga’s room, but living in the attic meant that he did not have to worry about someone coming in- Odin and Thor, who had both been blessed with strong, healthy lungs, never came up the rickety attic stairs, instead bellowing up them whenever they wanted Loki. Privately, Loki thought that if they ever did set foot on the stairs, Odin would break a hip and Thor’s soon-to-be-muscled bulk would send him plummeting to the floor below. Privately, he also thought that he would rather like to see both of those unfortunate incidents.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The attic was shabby and easily the most run-down part of the house, but Loki managed to fix the leaks in the roof and the holes in the walls with his magic, and the rest did not bother him very much. Once he had rearranged the furniture into something that resembled organization, he did not mind how broken and dingy much of it was. He had- without Odin’s knowledge, though the man barely paid attention to him when he did not want something- brought his books up with him, carefully arranging them in a bookcase with a short leg that made it lean back like it was relaxing against the wall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had also found a number of interesting things up there. By far the most interesting was a big, black, carved trunk, which stubbornly remained locked no matter what he did to it, until one night when it suddenly was not. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Strange,” Loki said. “I wonder what happened.” Being a curious child, he spent quite a long time trying to puzzle it out. But all he could discover was that, most likely, magic was involved. Being both a curious child and one who understood magic, he immediately stopped trying to understand what had happened. Magic had its own reasons for doing things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Loki said aloud (a habit he had developed since taking up residence in the attic, where no one else ever went,) “since the trunk was not open before and is open now, I think whatever magic opened it wants me to see what is inside. It would be rather foolish of the magic to open the trunk and expect me </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>to see what is inside.” He knelt by the trunk, running his fingers over the lid. No carving, no nothing to indicate what was inside or even who owned it, or why it had been shoved up here to the attic with the rest of the unwanted things. Loki determinedly refused to think about that any longer, distracting himself from the sudden sad direction his thoughts had taken by flipping up the lid of the trunk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sat back on his heels, his brow furrowed. “Magic,” he said, “why on earth do you want me to see this?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The trunk was full of clothing. Loki was rather in need of new clothing- his shoes had so many holes in them that he had simply forgone them and went about barefoot, and his shirt was more patches than the cloth it had originally been. Thor had become so muscular that his shirts, when he outgrew them, took quite a lot of work to trim them down to Loki’s size, so he had not had a new shirt in quite a while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It did not look as if he would be getting one today, either. The trunk was full of women’s clothing, or perhaps a girl approaching adulthood, for most of it was rather small. Strangely, it seemed primarily to consist of black and green, two colors that Loki, since his clothing was mainly Thor’s hand-me-downs and Thor favored red above all else, rarely wore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thought, however, that he quite liked the look of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The clothing was all very different than what he had seen Frigga wearing. Loki had very little idea of what women’s clothing was supposed to look like, but he was very sure that some of these dresses would have crossed the line from “cheeky” to “scandalous.” One or two piles even appeared to be men’s clothes, though far smaller than any he had seen before, and there was even a small stack of bloomers. The bottom of the chest contained a lot of gold jewelry and little things that had gradually made their way to the bottom of the trunk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki suddenly burst out laughing at the sea of women’s clothes that surrounded him. “What is the magic thinking?” he said again. “And who do these belong to?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As there was no way to find out, he brushed off first the question, and then the clothes as he carefully placed them back into the trunk. He discovered that he was small enough to fit easily into one of the shirts that was clearly not meant for a woman, though he suspected it had been used for such. That was more puzzling- Frigga had been very refined and ladylike. Surely she had never dressed as a man, so who had? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A cracked mirror sat against the far wall. Loki slipped into a pair of black pants, thinking it might look all right against the dark green shirt he had chosen, and went over to the mirror. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes widened, and he took a step back, startled. “Why!” he exclaimed. “I look almost nice!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki had always considered himself rather ugly. He had been told many times that he was sickly, and sickly children were not much to look at. (And there were quite a few instances where he had been directly told that he was an ugly child.) But in the mirror, wearing dark colors that flattered his black hair and pale skin, he thought that perhaps he was not so plain as he had been told. Perhaps it had only been the bright shades Thor liked that had made him unattractive. Whatever the reason, he kept the clothes on instead of changing back into the faded red shirt and brown pants he had had on before. It was nice, he thought, to wear something that felt new, that was not patched and old. He decided then and there that he would use some of the clothes in the trunk as fabric and make some new ones that suited him better than Thor’s cast-offs. “I won’t cut them all up,” he said, sitting down on the bed. “If the magic had wanted me to, it could have given me clothes for a boy and not for a girl. So there must be some reason it didn’t.” After this, since it was getting to be late, he blew out the candle and went to sleep- or tried to. He had long since gotten used to the hard, lumpy mattress and rough blanket. Normally it was easy for him to fall asleep, but tonight he seemed uncomfortable in a way he could not explain. Finally, however, he drifted off, although he kept tossing and turning even in his sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It all came together the next morning. For several hours, all was normal. Odin and Thor, certainly, noticed no difference. There were plenty of opportunities to, but they were used to ignoring Loki except when a mistake was made. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Indeed, nothing even seemed different until Loki slipped back into the dining room. This rarely occurred, and so Odin, without looking up, said, “You’re supposed to wait in the kitchen, Loki.” He raised his teacup to his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, Stepfather.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Odin choked on his tea. Thor let a large bite of ham fall out of his mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki smiled, rather enjoying the shock on their faces. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Loki-“ Odin coughed loudly- “your, ahem, magic is not working as it should, is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no, Stepfather. It seems to be working perfectly.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Odin’s eye twitched. Thor had still not closed his mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki’s smile began to look uncommonly like a smirk. “Is something wrong, Stepfather?” The question was innocent, just innocent enough that Odin knew Loki knew what the matter was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Almost angrily, he answered, “Oh, nothing is wrong, besides the fact that you are </span>
  <em>
    <span>wearing a dress!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>“So I am. I appear to be a girl today.” Loki did not look as if there were anything particularly shocking about that statement. And the person standing in the dining room was indeed a girl- while Loki’s features had barely changed, her hair was a few inches longer than it had been the day before, now hanging past her shoulders. She was also wearing a white apron over a simple black calico dress dotted all over with white flowers and little green leaves. On the whole, though still pale and far too thin, the girl in the dining room was a rather pretty one. She seemed to be just about Loki’s eleven years of age, as well- Odin coughed, realizing that some way or another, Loki had really changed into a girl. </p><p>
  <span>“Well...well, change back,” he demanded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki tilted her head. “Why? And also, I can’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t mind, Father,” Thor said, finally remembering to close his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Loki gave him an unimpressed look. “I’m still me,” she answered, wishing very much that she could tack a “you idiot” onto the end of that sentence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>mind.” Odin’s voice was beginning to take on that sharp tone that meant Loki had best make herself scarce. She flicked her hair back behind her shoulders, picked up the tray, and vanished back into the kitchen, leaving a very angry Odin and a very confused Thor behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To Odin’s great annoyance, Loki remained a girl throughout the rest of the day. Loki found herself paid more attention than she had in a long while- instead of going, shadowlike, about the house, barely noticed, now it seemed that either Odin or Thor was watching her everywhere she went. It was fun to irritate them, at first, but as the afternoon drew close and she was still being watched, it became unnerving. She began to worry that one of them would follow her all the way up to the attic, intruding on her last safe place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki did not mind the physical part of being made a servant in her own house. She was stronger than she looked, although nowhere near as strong as Thor or Odin. She found it rather funny (in a sort of bitter way) that Odin had been so worried about how strong Loki was that he had not allowed her to try to take some of her own furniture up to the attic, but he did not worry at all about whether or not Loki was strong enough for the work about the house. True, the work was hard, and she had little time for reading or anything else, but she did not mind it very much. She actually liked that Odin and Thor left her alone for the most part- Loki liked best the company of her own self. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she did mind in other ways. Of course she was clever enough to have seen through Odin’s excuses of looking after her well-being. But what irked her was that she could do nothing to stop it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It also irritated her, being treated as if she were less than Thor. She did not understand it, not fully. And knowing that you are considered lesser than another, yet not knowing why, is one of the most irritating and grieving things you can know. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loki could do nothing to stop how her stepfather and stepbrother treated her. But she had learned to fight back, in small ways that hardly seemed to matter at first. She left wet spots when she scrubbed the floor, so that when Odin and Thor came through, one of them was near certain to slip and either crash to the floor or make an undignified scrabble for something to hold on to. She rested the iron on clothes for just a little too long, resulting in scorch marks and smoke. She left the bones in fish, the leaves in tea, the shells in anything that needed eggs to make. She overcooked breakfast, undercooked dinner, and made sure that supper consisted only of things Odin and Thor disliked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not all at once, of course. Odin’s patience with Loki was already thin. She was careful, playing her tricks only when she could pass them off as an accident. And when the “accidents” occurred, she was always very sorry- she stood wringing her hands, apologizing again and again, head bowed and eyes downcast, promising to do better next time, submitting meekly when Odin punished her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But there was always a wicked, gleeful light in her eyes, and if you had seen it, you would have been sure that she had meant every mistake. You would have been sure they were not actually mistakes, but mischief. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And always Odin saw Loki’s eyes, and he knew the truth, too.</span>
</p>
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